Down To The River
It's hard to stay annoyed with Amazon for long, even though they are truly the most loathsome company imaginable. I refer, of course, to the whole Hachette publishing uproar (the sacrificial lambs for which being, mostly, authors -- who sacrifice enough on their own, thank you.), plus that whole deliver-your-package-with-a-drone business which, I'm sure, will be the death of us all.
Still, I'm nothing if not a pragmatist and somehow, while poking around, I found out that Amazon Prime streams all of The French Chef -- Julia Child's groundbreaking cooking show from 1963.
Dude -- you should see her electric stove. It has buttons to regulate the heat!
Anyway, I just finished watching Episode 1, which is Julia making boeuf bourguignon.
I have a confession to make: I have so much enjoyed the writing of my Saigon: Too Big To Fail novellas (I use the plural because I'm at one and a half, and counting) that I'm thinking of embarking on a parallel track and writing some fantasy literature as well. Next time you're in a Barnes and Nobel, check out how big the Fantasy and Science Fiction section is. Answer? Massive. And I'm nothing if not a pragmatist.
Quick aside about novellas: Novels are such a pain in the ass. These novellas are short enough not to drag you down but long enough for you to say what you need to say, in most cases. Quite lovely, really.
I can also hear you saying to yourself, "A-hah! I knew he wasn't being fully up front with us re. this whole 'I don't read much fantasy' business." To which I say fine.
One of the tried-and-true formulas for fantastical fiction is the protagonist who travels from one world to another. Jump into a wardrobe and boom, you're in Narnia. And the whole idea is that, in the end, both the traveler and the land to which he (or she) travels are changed in some way.
The change I envision for the distant land will be the introduction of classical french culinary techniques into an otherwise run of the mill medieval agrarian society. There may be some magic too, I suppose, but the point is that cooking is a bit of magic all its own. Let the hijinks ensue.
One thing I can promise you: No fucking dragons.
Still, I'm nothing if not a pragmatist and somehow, while poking around, I found out that Amazon Prime streams all of The French Chef -- Julia Child's groundbreaking cooking show from 1963.
Dude -- you should see her electric stove. It has buttons to regulate the heat!
I have a confession to make: I have so much enjoyed the writing of my Saigon: Too Big To Fail novellas (I use the plural because I'm at one and a half, and counting) that I'm thinking of embarking on a parallel track and writing some fantasy literature as well. Next time you're in a Barnes and Nobel, check out how big the Fantasy and Science Fiction section is. Answer? Massive. And I'm nothing if not a pragmatist.
Quick aside about novellas: Novels are such a pain in the ass. These novellas are short enough not to drag you down but long enough for you to say what you need to say, in most cases. Quite lovely, really.
I can also hear you saying to yourself, "A-hah! I knew he wasn't being fully up front with us re. this whole 'I don't read much fantasy' business." To which I say fine.
One of the tried-and-true formulas for fantastical fiction is the protagonist who travels from one world to another. Jump into a wardrobe and boom, you're in Narnia. And the whole idea is that, in the end, both the traveler and the land to which he (or she) travels are changed in some way.
The change I envision for the distant land will be the introduction of classical french culinary techniques into an otherwise run of the mill medieval agrarian society. There may be some magic too, I suppose, but the point is that cooking is a bit of magic all its own. Let the hijinks ensue.
One thing I can promise you: No fucking dragons.
posted by Geoffrey at 3:59 PM
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